


Power Play

by Seraphtrevs



Series: Only You [2]
Category: Better Call Saul (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Car Sex, Dubious Consent, Frottage, M/M, Mind Games, lalo is a sociopath, silghtly less dubious but still pretty dubious consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:34:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23082544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seraphtrevs/pseuds/Seraphtrevs
Summary: Being flexible wasn’t the same as being invincible, and Lalo would keep pushing until he found his breaking point. Which meant that Nacho needed to change the game.Lalo is playing mind games, and it's Nacho's move. The trouble is, Nacho has no clue what the rules are.
Relationships: Eduardo "Lalo" Salamanca/Ignacio "Nacho" Varga
Series: Only You [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1658944
Comments: 22
Kudos: 108





	Power Play

**Author's Note:**

> I've decided to make this a series of stories instead of one fic with multiple chapters. Enjoy!

“Everything in the world is about sex except sex. Sex is about power.”

― unknown

It was a week before Nacho saw Lalo again.

He’d expected him to come to El Michoacáno and preside over operations, as he had every day since he’d arrived. Nacho had prepared himself to endure Lalo’s cheerful whistles in the kitchen, his dangerous smiles, his mind games that only he knew the rules to.

Fring had ordered him to keep playing along. Easier said than done. Nacho wasn’t gay. He wasn’t sure he could fake interest. Lalo had a predator’s cunning—he’d sniff out any insincerity.

But if he couldn’t fake interest, that meant he’d have to stay passive and just let Lalo do whatever he felt like. That was the game last time—seeing how much he could bend Nacho before he broke.

Nacho surprised himself with his flexibility. He’d weathered the storm that was Lalo, like bamboo in a monsoon. It still shocked him that his body responded the way it did. He’d always had good survival instincts—if he had to get a boner to make it through the night, his body obliged.

However, being flexible wasn’t the same as being invincible, and Lalo would keep pushing until he found his breaking point. Which meant that Nacho needed to change the game.

But how? Nacho played well, but always on the defense. And going on the offense with a Salamanca was a dangerous proposition.

He turned it over and over in his mind, deciding that his best bet would be to offer a blow job. That way, he wouldn’t have to fake being aroused. If Lalo’s lusts were satisfied, maybe he wouldn’t press the issue.

It wasn’t a great plan. For one, he’d never given a blow job. For another, he had no idea how to seduce a man. He couldn’t just buy him flowers. Or maybe he could. That would be a hell of a power move. It might amuse Lalo. Or it could get him stabbed. Too risky for a first move—he’d start slow. Say only true things, like, _I can’t stop thinking about you_. That was the goddamn truth.

But Lalo spoiled everything by staying away. Was the encounter just a one-off? It hadn’t seemed that way, with the kisses Lalo had given him, the way he’d licked the tears off his cheeks, that murmured _amorcito_ when Nacho lay helpless in his arms.

Then again, Lalo was a Salamanca. Their moods were a fucking mystery.

On the eighth day, just as business was coming to a conclusion, Nacho’s phone rang. His heart skipped a beat—Lalo.

His hands only shook a little as he answered. “Hello?”

“How are you with cars?” His tone was cheerful, casual.

Nacho blinked. “What do you mean?”

“You mechanically inclined?” A laugh. “Of course you are. You know how things work—a special talent of yours, I think.”

Nacho rubbed his temple. “Yeah, I’m good with cars.”

“Excellent! Come get me.” He didn’t wait for an answer before hanging up.

Nacho’s mind raced as he drove to Lalo’s, all of his carefully considered plans blurring together into a dark mess, a smear of panic and unease. New game, his move. What the fuck was he going to do?

Lalo met him in the driveway. He wore tight jeans with a truly ridiculous belt buckle, shaped like a buffalo skull made of silver and turquoise. Lalo cleared his throat and grinned. Nacho realized he’d been staring, and he flushed. First point, Lalo. As if that was a surprise.

The car door opened, and Lalo got in. “Are you ready to have some fun?” He clapped him on the back, as if they were old pals, and he had a normal definition of “fun.”

 _Keep calm_. “Sure. Where are we going?”

“Just drive, and I’ll tell you.”

They headed out of town. The further they went, the more Nacho’s unease grew. Lalo was cheerful, as usual, but he didn’t say much, which was different. He kept smiling at Nacho, like the two of them shared a secret. He supposed they did.

Lalo’s directions brought them to an old racing track. At Lalo’s command, Nacho pulled up to the classic Mustang parked beside the bleachers.

Lalo sprang out the door and approached the Mustang. He leaned back against it, crossing his arms and smiling—always smiling. “1967 Shelby Mustang GT500,” he said as Nacho got out of his car. “What do you think?”

What was he supposed to say? “Nice car.”

“Yes, nice. Could be nicer.” He pointed a finger at him. “Like your car—1973 AMC Javelin AMX, correct? You work on it yourself?”

Nacho folded his arms. “Yeah.”

He gave the hood a pat. “What do you say you and me soup this baby up?”

Like he could refuse. “Sure.”

Lilo beckoned. “Come, let me show you.”

Nacho approached cautiously. Would Lalo make a grab for him and what, force him to his knees? Bend him over the hood? Nacho breathed in, let none of it show. The moment you showed panic to a wild animal was the moment you ended up ripped to shreds.

Lalo paused for just a moment when Nacho reached his side, meeting his gaze and giving one of his unnerving smiles. Then he reached in the car and popped the hood. “Let’s take a look, yeah?”

They spent a little while talking about possible modifications. It felt like a test, and Nacho was pretty sure he passed. Lalo seemed pleased, at least.

When they agreed on a plan, he shut the hood. “Excellent! We’ll get started tomorrow.” He grinned slyly. “And I know you must be dying to take it for a spin.” He dangled the keys in front of Nacho. “Come on, admit it.”

In other circumstances, he might have been excited. It really was a cool car. But this felt like another trial—that took the fun out of it.

Nacho accepted the keys. “Thanks,” he said coolly. He figured cool was better than fake.

Lalo patted him on the back. “I’ll go sit in the bleachers.” He jogged off, turning around about halfway there to point fingerguns at him. “I’m going all in on you, Ignacio. Don’t let me down.”

What the hell was that supposed to mean? In addition to being terrifying, he was such a fucking weirdo, which made him even scarier. He gave his head a quick shake, clearing it. At least he had a task now. It beat sitting around waiting for something to happen.

Once he was behind the wheel and speeding around the track, Nacho’s nerves settled. He liked to drive. He was good at it, and it was a nice car. Driving that fast required concentration, so it stilled some of his wilder worries. Every lap he got a flash of Lalo in the bleachers, waving and hooting as if the track was full of cars and he was cheering on his favorite driver.

Around and around again. It was hypnotic. A part of him wondered what would happen if he just drove off now, leaving Lalo and the Salamancas and Fring and all the rest of it behind. Just drive out into the desert until he ran out of gas, or drove off a cliff, Thelma and Louise style. Yeah, that could be cool—gunning it over the edge, and for a brief moment, flying through the air, totally free…

Lalo was waving both arms now, clearly wanting him to stop. Nacho did one last lap before coming to a halt. Nacho got out of the car as Lalo jogged toward him, a huge grin on his face. “You drive so well!” he said when he reached him, face flushed and hair whipping in the wind. “I knew you would.”

“Thanks.”

Silence. Not menacing—Lalo’s broad smile shifted to something subtler. His eyes danced, as if to say, _Your move_.

 _Here goes nothing_. Nacho dropped his gaze briefly before looking up again through lowered lids. “I can’t stop thinking about that night.”

Lalo’s smile shifted again, like the cat who caught the canary. “Oh yeah?”

Nacho’s face heated. “Yeah.”

Lalo leaned in, his right arm on the car as he crowded Nacho against the door. “And what did you think of it?” His voice was a low rumble.

Nacho licked his lips. What could he say that was true? “I kept wondering if it was going to happen again.”

Lalo put his left arm on the car on Nacho’s other side, trapping him completely. “Would you like that?” He was close enough that his warm breath ghosted over his skin. He smelled like chili powder and motor oil.

 _No_. At least, that’s what he had thought only an hour ago. But it was different with Lalo right here, with all of that wild, inscrutable intensity focused solely on him. But he didn’t want to say yes, either, because honestly? He was really fucking confused.

But Lalo expected a response. Before he could second guess himself, Nacho surged forward and kissed him.

A good move, judging by Lalo’s growl of approval. Lalo’s arms wrapped around him as he crushed their bodies together. That damn belt buckle dug into his skin, even over his jeans. The pain did nothing to blunt the desire that burst through him. It may have even enhanced it.

So much for having to fake it.

After kissing Nacho stupid, Lalo pulled back and attacked his neck, sucking and biting hard. He’d have a hickey tomorrow—was he marking him? Desire swelled in him again; he was so hard it hurt.

Lalo cupped him through his jeans and let out a pleased hum. “I’ve been thinking about you, too. About your lips…” He kissed him briefly. “That gorgeous cock…” He squeezed his groin, just hard enough to hurt. “Those wonderful noises you made when I had my lips around you…” He nuzzled his neck as he undid his fly. “Make them for me again.” He plunged his hands into his pants and pulled his cock free.

Nacho moaned. It wasn’t put on. He couldn’t have stopped it if he tried. Lalo dropped to his knees and swallowed him in one smooth motion, all the way down to the root. He shouted and curled forward, steadying himself with his hands on Lalo’s shoulders.

He managed to straighten himself out and leaned back against the car as Lalo worked him with his red hot mouth. His eyes shut.

On their first night together, he had tried to think of women while Lalo had his way with him. It hadn’t worked then, and it wasn’t working now. Impossible to imagine that it was a woman’s mouth around him—not with the mustache scratching against his skin. His mouth was so wide, so relentless. He was being devoured.

Lalo pulled off and rubbed Nacho’s cock against his cheek. His prickly stubble scraped the sensitive skin. Nacho’s eyes watered—it stung. Lalo’s wet tongue came after, licking away the hurt, and then he took Nacho’s cock into his mouth again. He settled into a rhythm that kept Nacho right at the peak of arousal but not letting him crest over it.

Nacho’s thoughts shattered to pieces and came back together over and over in different patterns, cycling through scenarios, trying to prepare for whatever was coming next. What if someone saw them? If his crew walked in on Nacho sucking Lalo’s dick, it wasn’t hard to imagine their reaction. Their leader, humiliated, made into a Salamanca’s bitch. But Lalo sucking his cock, and with such enthusiasm? What the fuck was _anyone_ supposed to make of that?

Nacho forced his eyes open and focused on Lalo’s bobbing head. His dark hair was streaked with gray—he wondered how much older Lalo was than him. He had a mature, powerful Salamanca between his legs. Maybe it wasn’t a catastrophe. Maybe it was…an opportunity.

He rested his hand gently on Lalo’s head, not pushing him, but letting it rise and fall with Lalo’s motions. Lalo’s gaze shot up, and he grinned around his cock. Nacho jumped as Lalo scraped his teeth along the underside as he pulled off of him.

“You want to fuck my face?”

Just when Nacho found his footing, he was sent scrambling again. “What?”

Lalo sat back on his heels. “You know you want to. Shut me up for once, eh?”

Nacho’s stomach dropped, as if he’d been pushed off a cliff. _Shit!_ He’d made a fatal move—he was a dead man now—

It must have shown on his face, because Lalo roared with laughter. He gave the tip of his cock one more kiss before standing up. He clucked sympathetically. “I’m only teasing you, Nachito. That was mean of me, especially when you were having such a nice time.”

In ordinary circumstances, he would have bristled at the diminutive. Now, all he felt was overwhelming relief. It was funny how terror obliterated the ego.

Lalo took Nacho’s cock in his hand, petting it gently. “Tell me how I can make it up to you. Anything you want.”

Nacho careened between lust and fear, bashing all coherent thoughts into jagged pieces. Ball was in his court again. He needed to do something, but all thought had burned away, leaving him a husk.

Lalo nuzzled his neck, keeping up the gentle strokes on his cock. He kissed his ear, his forehead, even his nose, before returning to his lips. “Tell me, amorcito. Anything.”

 _Think!_ But there was no time. He opened his mouth, praying something would come out that Lalo wanted to hear. “I want—I want—” He shook his head, furious at his incoherence. He met Lalo’s gaze again—those eyes, dark as the deepest jungle, or the bottom of the ocean. His breath hitched. “I just want you.”

Lalo’s eyes went darker, his pupils shot wide. His expression was no longer playful. Lalo pulled him close and crushed their faces together, kissing him with such overwhelming force Nacho was afraid he’d be swept away.

No chance of that happening with Lalo’s grip being tight as it was. He held him like he would never let him go. “Good answer, Nachito,” he growled. “A very good answer.”

Relief wafted over him, followed by elation. He’d made a good move, finally. He didn’t have time to savor his victory, because Lalo was tearing his shirt off and throwing it into the dirt. Lalo reached behind him and opened the car door. A push sent him reeling until he was lying on his back across the car seat.

Nacho’s boots were next, and then his pants and underwear. Once Nacho was naked, Lalo unbuttoned his shirt until his chest was exposed. He shoved down his pants down to his knees, seeming too impatient to disrobe entirely.

He jumped on top of Nacho, thrusting their cocks together while he kissed him with an intensity that literally took his breath away. Nacho broke away and gasped for air, but Lalo grabbed his head and kissed him again, forcing his tongue deep in his mouth, licking at his teeth.

But even a Salamanca had to breathe eventually. He pulled back with gasps of his own, and then buried his face in Nacho’s neck as he thrust against him. Nacho thrust back. They were humping like horny teenagers—it was almost funny. A particularly hard thrust made his head smack against the opposite door. He put his arms around Lalo and held on for dear life.

It didn’t take long. Lalo let out a roar, and hot come splashed on Nacho’s hip. He collapsed on top of him, knocking the air out of Nacho’s lungs. His own cock remained hard, trapped between them.

Lalo didn’t move for several minutes—was he knocked out? Unsure of what else to do, Nacho ran his hands along Lalo’s back, petting him like a big cat. Lalo rumbled in response and pushed himself up, hands on either side of Nacho while he looked down at him.

Never before had Nacho felt so exposed. He fought the urge to cover himself. Not that he could—he was trapped.

Lalo gathered up the come on his hip and smeared it over Nacho’s cock. He jerked it—fast and strong. Nacho moaned and writhed.

“That’s it,” he panted. “Come for me.”

Nacho’s eyes closed, but Lalo bit him on the neck. “Oh no—none of that. You keep your eyes open. _Look at me._ ”

Nacho did as he was told. Lalo’s gaze was wild, savage. _What big eyes you have_ , Nacho thought hysterically, and then his back arched as his orgasm ripped through him. He didn’t recognize the sounds coming out of him—guttural cries like a wounded animal.

He came crashing back to the seat, sucking in breath like a man who’d nearly drowned. Lalo kissed his slack mouth before sitting up. He wiped his sticky hand on the seat. “Hmm. Before we do any work, we should get these seats cleaned, I think.”

Nacho started laughing, so hard that his body shook with it. That set Lalo off, and they both howled like hyenas. _Fuck my life_ , Nacho thought, and that made him laugh harder. It was better than screaming.

Eventually, their laughter faded. Lalo leaned down for a fond kiss. “You have such a nice laugh,” he said, stroking his cheek. “I’d like to hear it more. You really should lighten up.”

That set him off again—weak, giddy giggles this time.

Lalo pulled up his pants got out of the car. He offered a hand to Nacho, who accepted it. Lalo picked Nacho’s clothes out of the dirt and dusted them off—not that it did much good. Nacho would be dirty the whole way home.

He pulled on his clothes while Lalo buttoned his shirt and buckled his belt. The sun glinted off the gaudy buckle—the flash hurt Nacho’s eyes.

“And now, dinner,” Lalo announced. “I’m craving chicken, and I know just the place.”

Lalo drove Nacho’s car home. It was just as well; he was drained of energy. He slumped against the window as Lalo chattered. Fortunately, Lalo didn’t seem to expect him to keep up with the conversation.

They reached the city again. Lalo patted Nacho’s thigh. “I like driving your car,” he said. “Smooth ride. You keep it in good working order for me, okay?”

Nacho rubbed his face. “Sure.”

“You look tired. We’ll go eat, and then I take you home for a shower and nap.” The pat turned into a caress. “I’ll take good care of you.”

Nacho couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing. But Lalo was right—he was tired. So fucking tired.

**Author's Note:**

> Poor Nacho - why is he so fun to torment? It's back to Lalo with the next story. Working title - "The Green-Eyed Monster." :O


End file.
